


It’s Too Cold For You Here

by PeachGlitch



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Bonding, Caligari Spell (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina), Developing Relationship, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Season 2, Soft Lilith, Stubborn Zelda, Zelda Struggles With Intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachGlitch/pseuds/PeachGlitch
Summary: While still pretending to be under the Caligari Spell, Zelda is left injured after a brutal encounter with Faustus. Lilith who’s still under the guise of being Miss Wardwell finds her, and wants to help.Zelda is very reluctant to let her.
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Comments: 51
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in season 2 after Zelda tells Sabrina and Hilda she is going to go back to Faustus under the pretence of still being cursed. The story specifically takes place directly after the scene Faustus almost catches Zelda speaking to Hilda via mirror in episode 8. 
> 
> Lilith is still pretending to be a witch from another coven/Miss Wardwell. But I’m ignoring most if not all of the canon storyline going on with her in this time frame. 
> 
> Pay attention to the tags for trigger warnings.

The cold tiles in the en suite feel so good against the burning skin of her back. They offer her a silent comfort. She doesn’t know how long she’s been lying here on the ground. All she remembers is Faustus becoming agitated after he caught her smoking earlier. She had hoped putting on a sickly sweet voice and informing him she was simply, ‘ _making myself beautiful for you, husband_.’ Would of distracted him enough, but it hadn’t. Faustus had casually walked over to her and yanked the cigarette away from hand. Her finger had almost been broken in the process, due to her Victorian smoking ring. She had yelped, and he’d slapped for for making a noise without his permission. Zelda barely flinched, ever since he had cursed her on their honeymoon, violence was a normal occurrence in their marriage. Even before the Caligari spell there had been an element of roughness to their relationship; especially during sex. Zelda enjoyed the power play in the bedroom. There had been their dalliance with a cat o nine tails, after they rekindled the passion between them and she’d let him tie her up on occasion; but that was consensual violence. What he’d done to her body since their honeymoon was not. Regardless of his status and her hope their unholy-union would give her some leverage; she would of hexed him into oblivion if he’d ever laid a finger on her without her permission. He knew that, so he had cursed her. And not just to be cruel for the sake of it. She knew this was his was if owning her fully; of taking away her identity and turning her into his life size doll to play with. Had it not been for Ambrose’s life on the line, she wouldn’t be enduring this further humiliation. But her family came first; would always come first. Even before herself.

Which was why when Faustus had ordered her to unzip her dress, and kneel in front of the bed, Zelda had complied with that moronic expression, the cursed version of herself wore on her face. She had placed her hands either side of the mattress, bracing herself for what was to come. He did enjoy his little petty punishments. He had stood right behind her, unhooking her bra, she knew for better access to her skin. Then taken a step back. As she’d lain there, waiting for the inevitable, she wondered what he would choose to punish her with tonight. It was usually a whip, or his cane or sometimes his bare hands. She tried to dissociate, it had been easier when she was actually spellbound. Now her mind wouldn’t let her wander, so instead she had focused on counting in her head. A technique Hilda had taught her, when she was feeling overwhelmed. She could hear her sisters Bristolian accent speak to her, _’Just count to ten, Zelds. And breathe, then tell me what’s wrong.’_

Zelda had already counted to seventeen in her head, when the first whip hit her skin unexpectedly. She had grimaced, and pressed her face into the mattress. Unless he ordered it of her, she would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her groan or scream. He was relentless, and she knew after the first ten lashings, skin had been broken. Could feel the warm trickle of blood running down her back.

Zelda winces at the memory, and screws her eyes shut.

After he was done, he’d ordered her not to heal herself until he said so. And reminded her it was unladylike to smoke. Then stormed off, leaving her bleeding, clutching at the front of her ghastly floral dress. She felt dizzy, and sore and all she wanted was her sisters healing balm. Instead she had crawled, agonisingly slow, towards her en suit. Once she’d felt the cool tiles on her palms, she’d twisted herself and slumped on the floor. Hissing as her injured back made contact with the hard surface; but the sensation of the cool tiles felt nice on her fresh scars.

She hasn’t moved a muscle since then, which she knows she will regret later. The less she moved now, the more painful it would feel when when she finally got up. But Zelda doesn’t care, she’s too tired; too hurt. For now at least she can rest and forget about her troubles.

Sabrina, Ambrose, Hilda, The Coven; they all melt away as she allows herself to drift into unconsciousness. Or at least that was the plan; the universe seemed to have other ideas.

“Faustus?” A female voice catches Zelda’s attention and she frowns. Who on Earth would have the nerve to enter his chambers, and call him by his first name like that?

Zelda opens her eyes, and turns her head towards the open bathroom door. The woman calls his name again, then mutters something under her breath. Zelda doesn’t care what she says, just wants her to leave. Instead she hears footsteps approach the door. The last thing she needs is someone finding her in this state. But she can’t move. So gives up, accepting that someone was going to find her in this undignified condition on the floor.

A pair of Jimmy Choo heels come into view, and Zelda looks up. She squints against the harsh bathroom lights. Until she recognises a familiar pair of blue eyes. Her frown only deepens, what was Miss Wardwell doing here? Ever since discovering she was a witch the woman had the annoying habit of turning up at the most unexpected of times.

She wishes she could hoist herself up, for a bit more dignity, but she can’t. Besides if this woman knew Faustus or was working with him, she had to keep up her practiced act of being under the Caligari spell.

“Zelda?” Miss Wardwell gasps, and Zelda feels her cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being found like this by _her_ of all people. The brunette witch takes a step forward, then kneels down next to her. “What’s wrong, why are you lying on the bathroom floor?” She asks, her hand gently, far to gently for Zelda’s liking anyway, brushing away a strand of auburn hair that’s stuck to her forehead.

“Nothing, I’m simply resting before my husband returns.” Zelda answers, all sugar and sweetness. She even manages a smile. Her hope is that because she’s flat on her back, Miss Wardwell won’t of seen the extent of her injuries. Not that she thinks the woman would care, they weren’t friends. And her presence here was just further proof that her family could not trust her.

Miss Wardwell raises a brow at her response, “on the bathroom floor?”

Zelda nods as if was totally normal. “Yes,” she says, not faltering once. “If you do not mind I’d like to wait for him in peace. But I’ll be sure to mention that you called.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Zelda watches as Miss Wardwell looks her over. Her eyes scrutinising everything. It makes Zelda feel terribly exposed. “Are you hurt?” The brunette asks, her eyes back on Zelda’s.

“No!” Zelda insists quickly, then shakes her head. “I ...like I said, I’m just resting and waiting for my husband like a good wife.” She goes on weakly.

Without warning Miss Wardwell reaches for Zelda’s shoulder and she flinches, which pulls at her scars and she moans. “What do you think you’re doing?” She hisses, the act dropping for a second. Her naturally low voice coming through in her annoyance.

“I think you’re hurt and you’re trying to hide it. You’ve definitely knocked your head. Or else why would you be lying here in the ugliest dress I’ve ever seen, and talking to me like a satan-damned stepford wife.” Miss Wardwell responds, not moving her hand from Zelda’s shoulder. “Let me see?” She adds, in a softer tone.

Zelda panics, she doesn’t want to show Miss Wardwell her back. But she also doesn’t want to blow her cover of being under the caligari curse. So she tries to remain perfectly still. She looks away from Miss Wardwell, back up towards the ceiling. Then she subtly shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

Miss Wardwell sighs, then let’s go of her shoulder. For some maddening reason, Zelda misses the connection immediately.

“Well I guess I’ll just have to wait here with you for Faustus.” Miss Wardwell announces, as she shifts on her knees and changes into a sitting position. She leans her back against the bathtub that’s the opposite side to Zelda. Leaving a gap between them, until the other witch crosses her feet at her ankles, almost touching Zelda’s arm.

“What?!” Zelda turns her head quickly, eyes wide and heart pounding quickly in her chest. “You cannot do that.”

“And why the heaven not?” Miss Wardwell counters smugly. “If you’re simply waiting for him, then I might as well do the same. That is unless of course, there’s a reason he wouldn’t be pleased to find me here with you?”

Zelda seethes. Why couldn’t this woman just let things be? If Faustus walked in and saw them like this, she would be the one to pay the price. As much as he enjoyed torturing her, he liked to be discreet about it. Zelda tries to think of another excuse, anything. But her mind comes up empty. She stares at Miss Wardwell, debating wether or not she should tell her the truth. “What do you want to see my husband for?” Zelda asks. If she’s satisfied with the answer, she might enlighten the other woman with the truth of the situation.

“I’m not sleeping with him, if that’s what you’re asking.” Miss Wardwell says, rather bluntly. But Zelda doesn’t sense any lie. Not that it would bother her if the Wardwell woman was sleeping with Faustus. She’d gladly welcome anything to distract him from her body. If he was sated elsewhere, she’d at least be spared being forced to lie still while he had his way with her. “I’m purely here for business. Nothing too serious, but something I’d like to keep private.” Miss Wardwell’s matter of fact tone breaks through her thoughts. Zelda wants to call her a hypocrite.

“Can I trust you?” Zelda asks meekly after a moment’s hesitation. It’s a pointless question, the woman was hardly about to say no. But Zelda has already said the words out loud, so there was nothing to do but wait for her response.

Miss Wardwell shrugs. “I don’t know, Zelda. Can you?”

The candid way she responds irks Zelda, but it’s far better than some dramatic declaration of trust. Wincing Zelda uses her elbows to push herself up off the cold floor. Her back instantly misses the coolness of the tiles, but she cannot have this conversation lying on the floor. Zelda groans, as she hoists herself up, and tries to reach for a towel rack for support. She’d forgotten it was heated, and hisses through her teeth when she burns her fingers and falters. Instead of ending up back on the floor, Miss Wardwell has moved from her position and catches her in her arms. Zelda tries to struggle, but finds herself too weak. So allows the woman to guide them back to where she was just sitting. The brunette leans against the bathtub again, and manoeuvres Zelda so she can rest her head on her lap.

Zelda stiffens, at the tenderness of it. Especially when she feels fingers brush through her hair. “If I tell you what’s going on and you betray me, you’ll be responsible not only for my death, but for that of my entire family. Do you understand?” Zelda says, feeling tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

The hand combing her hair ceases and Miss Wardwell tears her eyes away from where she was looking at the dried blood on the floor, where Zelda had previously been. She’d probably caught sight of her marred back as well, when she’d tried to get up. She looks down at Zelda, an unreadable expression on her face. “Considering I find the world a much more interesting place with you in it, I’d hate to be responsible for that.” She says, in a way that sounds both like sarcasm, and sincere.

It annoys Zelda, so she tries to get up from the woman’s lap. When she does a wave of nausea hits her. And she must pull a face or something, because Miss Wardwell is suddenly helping her into a sitting position. Zelda notices though, that she takes great care in not touching any of the cuts on her back. “Are you going to be sick, do you need me to take you to the toilet?” Miss Wardwell asks, once she’s sitting up. 

Zelda is mortified at the idea and she moves away from the brunette, holding onto the front of her dress to keep her modesty intact. But doesn’t get very far. “Certainly not,” she barks. Just barely managing to get herself in the same position as Miss Wardwell, leaning against the bathtub with her legs stretched out in front of her. Their shoulders bump against each other. 

That’s when Zelda notices for the first time she’s only wearing one shoe. So she kicks the remaining white heel off, and uses her foot to shove it away. “Zelda?” Miss Wardwell tries to reach for her again. This time Zelda bats her hand away.

The last thing she wants to do is spill her guts to the woman next to her; but what choice does she have?

“We went to Rome for our honeymoon.” Zelda blurts out suddenly. She keeps looking straight ahead, she can’t look at Miss Wardwell when she tells her the truth. Far to humiliated by her own lack of awareness. Her arrogance, which had made it so easy for Faustus to curse her. “On our first night there, Faustus gifted me a music box. It was a strange choice for a gift. He tends to get me jewellery or maybe perfume, on special occasions. You know the sort of gifts un imaginative husbands get their wives.” Zelda pauses to wipe at her eyes. She was not going to cry over this. Not again. “I found myself enthralled by the object. The music it played was somehow familiar. So when Faustus took me in his arms, and we danced around the honeymoon suite, it felt so right. Until...”

“Until?” Miss Wardwell urges gently.

“Until my limbs started to feel heavy and no matter how much I tried to entangle myself from his embrace, my body was not in sync with my mind. When Faustus started speaking to me in Latin his voice sounded far away. It was as if I was underwater, drowning and then it went dark.”

“The Caligari Spell.” Miss Wardwell says darkly. It wasn’t a question. And Zelda nods, confirming it. “That’s why you’re wearing this hideous dress, why you haven’t healed your back?” Zelda nods again, and Miss Wardwell gasps. “He still thinks you’re cursed.”

“Yes,” Zelda confirms, after swallowing a lump in her throat. “That’s why I sounded strange earlier. I haven’t knocked my head. I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t fully trust you, but you forced my hand. So now you know.”

When Miss Wardwell doesn’t respond, Zelda glances at her. She’s looking away now, a flicker of emotion crosses her sharp features. Then she turns to look at Zelda again. “Who else knows?” She asks.

“Just Hilda and Sabrina. It was Sabrina who saved me. But I had to come back here, for Ambrose’s sake.” Zelda explains, “so I’m begging you to keep this information to yourself.” She reaches a hand and curls her fingers around Miss Wardwell’s forearm. “On my life if you jeopardise this plan, I’ll make sure your pay.” She threatens, earning her a chuckle from Miss Wardwell, who yanks her arm out of Zelda’s hold.

“For someone who’s injured, both physically and mentally. You still try to threaten me?” Miss Wardwell sounds more amused than angry. Zelda is about to retort that she’s not as weak as she may look, when Miss Wardwell hold up a finger to silence her. “I’m a lot of things, Zelda. But I’d never help a misogynist. Especially one who’s hurt you.”

“Then what business do you have with Faustus?” Zelda asks again, hoping for some clarity on the matter. She ignores the last part of Miss Wardwell’s sentence. She doesn’t know what to do with that, so chooses to pretend she hasn’t heard.

Miss Wardwell looks away again. Zelda studies her profile. Her nose is larger than her own, and she’s much more slender. Her hair longer and thicker as well. Zelda tries to remember who is taller, but can’t. “As much as I’d like to elaborate, in return for your honest admission, I’m afraid I can’t.”

Zelda scoffs, and tries to get up, but her back soars with pain, so she has to slump back down. Miss Wardwell reaches for her again, “do you need me to-

“Don’t touch me!” Zelda snarls, and Miss Wardwell drops her hands again.

“I know you’re angry, but I can just leave you here. At least let me help you get up.” She pleads. “The longer you stay here the worse it’ll feel when you finally move.”

Zelda ignores her, and shifts a little more to the left, away from her. “Like you care.” She says, even though she knows she’s right.

“I’m sorry.” Miss Wardwell whispers, and Zelda can’t bare it.

“I don’t need your apologies. I just need to to leave.” Zelda replies, her throat constricting from all the emotions she’s feeling but trying to bottle up.

“Are you really not going to heal your back until he says so?” Miss Wardwell asks, something heavy and raw in the way she speaks. “Some of those cuts looked pretty deep.”

“I can’t. He’ll know I’m not cursed if I do.” Zelda replies, holding in a sob. “And he’ll definitely know if he comes back and I’m sat here talking to you.”

“I know you’re doing this for your family but maybe there’s another way.” Miss Wardwell tries to reason. “A safer way. One that doesn’t involve you having to be abused so dreadfully.”

Zelda shoots her a piecing look. “Ambrose and Sabrina are like my children. I’ll always put their lives and safety above my own. I don’t expect someone like you to understand.” She sneers. The reminder of her niece and nephew spurs her on, and Zelda finally forces herself to get up. She uses the edge of the bathtub for leverage. She exhales, when her back stings, but pushes through the pain. She won’t sit here and discuss this with a woman she hardly knows, any longer. When she finally gets to her feet, and lets go of the tub she sways. And for one frighting moment she things she’s going to fall back down. She reaches for the bath again, but Miss Wardwell is faster than her, and on her feet in a matter of seconds. Two strong hands hold onto either side of her waist, to steady her.

“Let go of me!” Zelda demands, glaring angrily at the woman. Who with her heels, and Zelda’s lack of footwear is at least three inches taller than her. Which would mean with her shoes on, they’d be the same height. Answering Zelda’s earlier internal question.

“If I do that you’re going to fall.” Miss Wardwell counters.

“I don’t care, I’d rather fall and crack my skull open than have you hold me up life an infant.” Zelda shouts, outraged at the gal of the woman.

“Well I do care.” Miss Wardwell says, still not letting go.

Zelda tries to struggle out of her firm grip, but finds herself lacking the energy to put up a real fight. So she gives up and her shoulders slump. “I have to do this.” She says quietly, more to herself than the woman holding her.

“Lift your arms, and hook your hands behind my neck. It’ll be more comfortable for you.” Miss Wardwell says, and Zelda look up at her confused. “Just do it, trust me.” And for some reason, Zelda quietly complies. The action causes their bodies to brush up against one another’s. Miss Wardwell is warm, and smells of jasmine. Her hands remain on Zelda’s hips.

“I’m not going to betray your trust, Zelda. I swear to Satan. I’m actually going to keep a close eye on you, while you continue to protect your family. I won’t intervene unless I deem it necessary.”

Zelda is speechless. Lilith’s whole demeanour radiates sincerity. “Why?” She breaths, a lone tear trailing down her cheek.

One of Miss Wardwell’s hands let go of her hip. She lifts it up to brush a strand of Zelda’s hair behind her ear, then her thumb gently wipes the tear away. Zelda holds her breath, her eyes dart from Miss Wardwell’s eyes down to her lips then back up again. As they look at each other, Zelda feels herself getting lost in the blue ocean of the other woman’s eyes. She forgets for a moment why she dislikes the woman so much.

The air feels thick and heavy, and when Miss Wardwell leans closer, Zelda’s eyes flutter shut. The kiss is chaste and slow. There’s no passion, no tongue; just their lips pressed together. Miss Wardwell kisses her like she’s made of glass. It’s tender and soothing and kind. When they break apart, Zelda opens her eyes again and finds the other woman smiling somewhat shyly at her. “That’s why.” She says.

Zelda inhales sharply, not knowing what to do with this new information. “You hardly know me.” Zelda says flatly. Miss Wardwell looks as if she knows something she doesn’t for a second. But doesn’t elaborate or argue her case.

“Let me take you to bed.” She suggests and Zelda’s eyes go wide as she balks at her. Miss Wardwell laughs, “not for _that.”_ She explains quickly, “I’ll leave once I know you’re comfortable.”

Zelda relaxes at her words, though her mind is still in turmoil. “Oh.” She says, then looks away for a second. It doesn’t feel like she has much of a choice. Miss Wardwell had made it very clear she wasn’t going to leave until she’d helped her in some capacity. So she nods, “okay.”

Lilith continues to smile, “that’s the spirit,” she tries to tease, but it falls flat. She twists around, so she’s more to Zelda’s side than front. Zelda automatically drops one of her arms, so only one is around Miss Wardwell’s shoulder. While Miss Wardwell has one arm snaked around her midsection. “I’m going to walk you back to your room, tell me if it hurts at all.” She explains, and Zelda wants to say it hurt regardless, but simply nods.

They take is slow, but the height difference makes it uncomfortable. So just before getting to the threshold of the door, Miss Wardwell toes her heels off and discards them to the side. With both of them the same height, Zelda doesn’t feel her scars pull as much down her back.

The bedroom isn’t as bright as the bathroom, but it’s a bit of a mess. The bedsheets are crumpled from where Zelda was gripping at them earlier, and there’s even a small amount of blood on the edge. Before reaching the bed, Miss Wardwell mutters a quiet spell and the sheets are fresh and clean. “Why did you do that? He’s going to notice.” Zelda whines, feeling dizzy again.

“Just use one of the lines his warped version of you would use, I don’t know, like you wanted it to be nice and clean for his return.” Miss Wardwell suggests, as they approach the the bed. It’s a rounded shape, that Zelda loathes. It reminds her of a fad during the 1960s, an era of time she really didn’t enjoy. She preferred straight lines and structure. Which was why she always favoured the early 1900’s.

“You really don’t understand how the infernal spell works do you?” Zelda says, “I can only do things if he tells me to. So change it back, or I will.” Zelda threatens, and Miss Wardwell sighs, but the bed returns to its state of disarray regardless.

“Here, just let me,” Miss Wardwell helps her into a sitting position onto the bed. Once she feels the matters underneath, she untangles her arm from her shoulders and Miss Wardwell lets go of her waist. “There we go, that wasn’t so hard.”

Zelda rolls her eyes, “speak for yourself.” She tries to shuffle so she can rest against the two pillows on her side of the bed, but her back stings painfully. “Ouch, _Lilith_ in hell,” she hisses through gritted teeth.

Miss Wardwell looks taken aback, “what?” Zelda asks, moving onto her stomach instead. She knows it means Miss Wardwell will see more of her back, but she doesn’t care as much as before.

“Nothing it’s just I don’t really hear people refer to Lilith that much these days. It’s usually Satan this or Lucifer that.” Miss Wardwell says with a faraway look on her face.

Zelda holds onto a pillow, her head facing Miss Wardwell as she lies on her stomach above the covers. “How would you know who witches refer to in private? I’m sure I’m not alone in using Lilith’s name. She deserves our recognition as much as Satan.”

Tears form behind Miss Wardwell’s eyes, but Zelda is too exhausted to press the matter. She stifles a yawn, then closes her eyes. “Don’t forget to pick up your shoes on the way out.”

Miss Wardwell doesn’t say anything, but Zelda hears her go do just that. Then her heels make a noise as she approaches the bed again. Zelda half expects her to try to sit down next to her. She doesn’t know how she feels about that. But Miss Wardwell doesn’t sit, and Zelda is almost disappointed.

“I can make it so your back doesn’t hurt. It will still look, well...bad. And Faustus will assume you are in pain, but you won’t be.” Miss Wardwell says, and Zelda opens one eye to peer up at her.

“No.” She says defiantly. “Faustus is much more powerful than a simple witch. He will know I’m enchanted and then he will make an even bigger mess of my back.”

“How do you know if he’s more powerful than me? He might be a High Priest but I’m...”

When Miss Wardwell trails off, Zelda scoffs against the pillow. “You’re what?”

“Never mind.” Miss Wardwell mumbles.

“You’ve done all you can.” Zelda says, closing her eye again. “You should go now.”

There’s another sound, and Zelda can smell Miss Wardwell’s perfume. Her eyes flutter open and she’s kneeling next to her face. “When this guise of yours is over and everyone’s safe, we should speak again.”

Zelda feels like a deer in headlights. “Maybe.” She answers, “if you haven’t betrayed us by then.”

Miss Wardwell frowns. “I promised you I wouldn’t. Don’t you believe me?”

“I don’t trust anyone who has so called business with Faustus. I haven’t forgotten the reason you set foot into my personal quarters, in the first place. And if you haven’t noticed, after everything he has done and taken from me, I don’t trust anyone who’s isn’t my family anymore.”

“Fine. But if I prove myself. Then will you see me?” Miss Wardwell goes on, undeterred. “I’d really like to see you under more pleasant circumstances.”

Zelda will not be pushed into a corner though, “I’m not making you any promises. I’m grateful for your kindness tonight, but I still don’t know you.”

Miss Wardwell looks stricken, she bows her head. Zelda lets go of the pillow and uses her index finger to lift the other woman’s chin up. “If our paths cross again, and you haven’t wronged me or my family, then I will consider it.” Zelda says, then pulls her hand back.

She thought her words would be reassuring, Miss Wardwell looks slightly vexed though, not pleased. “Have it your way.” She responds in a clipped tone, then stands up again. “I’ll leave you to it then. And maybe we will see each other again.” Something in her voice lacks conviction. As if she’s holding something back. Something that would make any sort of friendship...or something more be an impossibility. She brushes invisible fluff from her blouse, the turns to leave. Though Zelda catches her giving her back one last look of concern. “If he doesn’t let you heal your own back by tomorrow morning, I’d do it anyway. Last thing you need is an infection.” She says before heading for the door.

“Miss Wardwell?” Zelda calls from the bed, just before she reaches the door. She stops and turns around.

“Yes, Lady Blackwood?” Zelda feels a pang of loss, at her married name being used. Earlier, Miss Wardwell had no issue using her first name. Was it because she had referred to her so formally?

“I meant to say, Mary.” She corrects herself, but the woman just looks at her impassively. “Thank you for helping me.”

Finally a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. She nods, and quirks a brow. “You’re welcome. Please take care of your self, Zelda.” She responds. “I’ll be looking out for you.”

Zelda offers her a small smile of her own, then Miss Wardwell leaves. Closing the door behind her, leaving Zelda alone.

Zelda slumps down onto the pillow again. Her mind racing with this strange encounter. Before tonight she’d only ever regarded Miss Wardwell as a nuisance. Now she doesn’t know what to think about the woman. But she’s also very tired, and knows that not before long Faustus would return and she’d have no time to rest. So she closes her eyes, and lets sleep take her away to a temporary safe place.

That night Zelda dreams of home and her family. Her younger self playing with Vinegar Tom. And then finally a pair of soft lips kissing her own, the smell of jasmine and an endless yet calm ocean on a summers day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the rest of this fic you can pretty much assume this is an alternate universe. I’ve taken some bits from canon for the story, and totally ignored others. My main focus is Zelda and Lilith’s blossoming relationship. 
> 
> Speaking of... I can’t believe Miranda actually said Madam Spellman would of happened if there was another season. It’s a nice confirmation that this wonderful ship could of been endgame but it’s kinda bittersweet, considering we will never get to see it develop. Urgh. Thank Lilith for fanfic!

The air is muggy and damp in the ‘Witch’s Cell’. There is no source of natural light anywhere. A chilling breeze nips at Zelda’s skin. She’s still wearing the floral dress Faustus liked to pick out for her. The material is thin, and her arms are exposed. She already hated the style of the dress, now she even loathed it’s practicality- or lack there of. At least if she’d of been locked up wearing one of her high collared blouses, velvet sleeved jackets or any of her fur coats, the icy temperature of her prison wouldn’t feel half as bad.

Her back hurts from sitting so rigidly on a stone stump. She knows she’s alone, and could easily move to sit in a corner and lean against something, but her pride won’t allow her to do that. She keeps expecting Faustus to make an appearance. He’d already seen her in countless degrading positions over the last few weeks. Humiliated her more than anyone else ever had; she would not let him see her defeated as well.

She breathes in deeply, then exhales. She can see the air blow out in front of her face like smoke. It reminds her of the pack of cigarettes she has hidden in one of her draws up in the bedroom. She would literally sell one of her limbs right now for one. Anything to curb the growing anxiety and worry within her. All she can think about is Ambrose and the rest of her family. She had failed them all, and the likelihood of any of them getting out of this alive was near to impossible. Once again her arrogance had made her blind to the danger which surrounded them. She should of paid more attention to Prudence. Zelda wasn’t angry with her for revealing everything to Faustus. Prudence Night was a witch who reminded Zelda of herself in her youth. She was witty, staunch in her beliefs of their faith and headstrong. But she was also terribly afraid of being abandoned and forgotten. The girl was practically starving for paternal affection more than anything. If she’d of noticed sooner, she would of taken her under her wing. Shown her that a man like Faustus wasn’t worthy of being her father and that she wouldn’t waste her time seeking validation from him. Even now with no hope of survival, Zelda makes a mental note that if she ever has the chance, she will show Prudence what being part of a family truly means.

There is a loud thumping noise outside of the cell, and Zelda startles. Jumping to her feet, she stands and waits. There isn’t another sound, her set shoulders slump, but she doesn’t sit back down. Instead she crosses her arms in an attempt to keep in some of her body heat and starts to pace. It’s not a very big space, but it’s enough to get the blood flowing again in her rigid body.

Waiting for the inevitable is worse than actually experiencing it. She doesn’t understand why Faustus hadn’t just kill her right there in his office. Unless of course he planned on making a show, forcing her to endure a public exocution. She supposes that was more likely, considering he enjoyed torturing her and asserting his dominance. Zelda stops dead in her tracks when another thought pops into her brain. What if he was planning on putting her back under the Caligari Spell? The thought makes her feel nauseous. Maybe that’s why she’d been put in here. So he could murder her family and then have her back under his control again. Only this time with no hope of ever been saved from its warped clutches. 

No. She wouldn’t let herself be subjected to _that_ again. If at any point it looks like she will, she will grab the nearest sharpest object and slice open her own throat. Death was preferable than a life as a spinning doll in a music box.

Another thump catches her attention. It sounds closer this time. She turns to face the door. “Hello? Who’s there?” She asks in a raised voice, trying to sound composed but feeling anything but.

Two more thumps, and then the sound of screeching against concrete. It makes Zelda wince. “Hello?” She tries again. But no one answers her. Her eyes dart around the cell, looking for anything she could weaponise. But it’s pointless, there’s nothing that can help her. Zelda clenches her firsts either side of her, at least she has physical strength on her side. Years of killing Hilda and having to bury her body in the Cain Pit is only one example of her fitness and endurance.

The noise outside the cell ceases and an eerie silence falls around her. Zelda can feel her heart hammering against her chest.

After a few minutes she hears another sound, and the door finally opens. Zelda holds her breath and raises her chin defiantly, expecting to see Faustus’s smug face or one of his infernal Judas Club boys. Her mouth practically drops open when she’s met with neither.

“What in _heaven_ are _you_ doing here?” She asks, eyes narrowing as none other than Miss Wardwell takes a few more steps into the cell.

The corner of the brunette’s mouth twitches, but Zelda also see’s concern etched onto her vampy features. It makes her feel uncomfortable, so she glares at her, masking her confusion.

“Surprise.” Miss Wardwell drawls sarcastically. Her attempt at levity falls flat though. Zelda is in no mood for games. The last time she’d seen the woman was over a week ago, after Faustus had punished her for smoking. The encounter had been a surprising one. And had crossed Zelda’s mind several times since. Though she never did find out what the other witch wanted with Faustus.

“I should of known you were in an alliance with Faustus!” Zelda accuses, not giving her a chance to speak, because why else would she be here now? Zelda feels like an idiot for ever letting herself think the woman actually had an ounce of decency in her. Faustus probably already knew long ago that she was only playing at being under the Caligari Spell. Miss Wardwell would of told him a week ago. And he only had to act shocked for Prudence’s sake. “And now you’re here to do the rest of his dirty work, is that it?” Zelda snarls.

Miss Wardwell steps even closer and Zelda instinctively backs away, until her calves hit the rock she’d been sitting on. “What are you talking about?” Miss Wardwell asks. “I’m not in any alliance with him and I’m not here to do his dirty work.” She insists, stoping a few feet in front of Zelda; but not entering her personal space.

“You expect me to believe you?” Zelda scoffs, suprised at the nerve of the brunette. Did she really think she could get away with her constant lying. “Otherwise why else would you be here?”

Miss Wardwell’s features soften, and she takes another step forward.

“No!” Zelda shouts, panicking at the thought of someone getting too close to her. “Don’t come any closer to me.” Zelda side steps the rock, along falls over it in the process. She corrects her footing and stands behind the stone. Using it as an physical barrier between them. “Just state your purpose for being here then leave me alone. And if you’re here to murder me, do not expect me to not fight back.”

Miss Wardwell raises both her hands up, her palms facing Zelda. “Okay, okay. I’m not going to get any closer to you without your permission.” She says calmly, before slowly lowering her hands. She stuffs them into the pockets of her long leather jacket. “Clearly we have our wires crossed here.” She starts to explain. “I’m not here to cause you harm, Zelda. I’m here to get you out.”

Zelda’s eyebrows practically hit her hairline. She feels as though someone has thrown a bucket of ice water over her. “W-what?” She stutters out, still not fully believing her.

“It’s true. I promised Sabrina. A lot has happened while you’ve been down here. But your family, all of them are safe. Faustus is gone and you don’t need to be afraid.” Miss Wardwell says tenderly, but it sounds too good to be true.

Zelda shakes her head. “You’re lying!” She accuses in a loud voice. “This is...this is just another way of tormenting me. Has Faustus told you to come in here and say all of this? To give me hope and then the second I step outside of this cell, he’s going to be there laughing at me for being so stupid!” Zelda shouts, her emotions getting the better of her. She blinks back tears, then shakes her head, laughing sardonicly, “I’m a lot of things, Miss Wardwell, but I’m no fool and for the record I am _not_ afraid.” Her voice almost catches in her throat at that last past. It was a lie, she was terrified but she wasn’t about to admit it.

“ _Please_ listen to me. I’m telling you the truth. I’m on your side.” Miss Wardwell persists, “surely after the other week you know you can trust me.”

“If you recall correctly, I told you that I don’t trust anyone outside of my family.” Zelda retorts, then shivers. Her arms are covered in gooseflesh and she can’t feel her feet. Miss Wardwell must of noticed her shiver, because all of a sudden she’s pulling her hands out of the pockets of her leather jacket and proceeds to remove it from her shoulders.

“It’s freezing down here. You’re lucky you haven’t frozen to death. Here, take this.” She says, holding out the jacket towards Zelda.

“You’re deluded if you think I want anything from you.” Zelda barks back. She tries not to stare at Miss Wardwell’s toned arms. Or the curve of her waist where her tank top is tucked into her high waisted black pencil skirt. “And unless Hilda, Sabrina or Ambrose come to free me, I’m not leaving.” She adds, hating how petulant she sounds.

Miss Wardwell lowers her arm, but doesn’t put the jacket back on. “Why is it you are so reluctant to accept help?” She asks, a frustrated edge to her tone. “Is it just because it’s me? Or have you always been like this?”

Zelda bristles at the accusation. Her arms tighten around herself and she presses her nails into her biceps. “Don’t you dare try to psychoanalyse me. You know nothing about me.” She says, feeling a mixture of emotions. But mainly just angry.

Miss Wardwell sighs, but doesn’t press the topic further. “Look the fact is that I’m here to take you back to your family. Quit making it so difficult and just accept that no matter what you might think of me, I’m here to help. And I’m not leaving without you.”

Zelda tries to look behind Miss Wardwell. Still wary that this was a trick. She can’t see any shadows or sounds that would indicate anyone else was there. Slowly she walks around the rock. “Ambrose and Sabrina are both safe?” She asks warily, just as she gets to where Miss Wardwell is standing. Though keeps enough space between them.

“Yes. And so are you now.” She confirms, then holds up her jacket again. “Take this, I know you’re cold and it’ll cover the bruises at least.”

Zelda looks down at her arms. She’d forgotten about the marks left behind from the day before. Faustus had manhandled her quite roughly and she hadn’t healed herself. If she _was_ about to be reunited with her family, the last thing she wants is for them to see her injured. Slowly she reaches for the jacket. Miss Wardwell smiles when she finally has it in her hand and starts putting it on. The leather smells of jasmine, the same scent she’d detected a week ago on the woman. It’s slightly small for her, but offers her some protection against the cold air. She doesn’t thank Miss Wardwell for it.

“Right then, let’s get out of here.” Miss Wardwell says. She places a hand on the small of Zelda’s back and she flinches. “Sorry.” The brunette mutters, as if remembering something. She pulls her hand back.

“It’s quite alright. I mean I just can’t... I just...well you know.” Zelda trails off, not really knowing how to put it into words how being touched without her permission is something that seems to make her feel uncomfortable now. Before the Caligari Spell she wouldn’t of given it a second thought.

Miss Wardwell nods, and then steps back. Allowing Zelda to take the lead in walking out of the cell.

When she gets to the entrance she instinctively freezes. Her heart begins beating a little faster and her hands feel clammy. She knows she’s being ridiculous, but that slither of paranoia just won’t go away.

“Nothing is going to happen when you step out.” Miss Wardwell reaffirms from behind her.

“I’m not scared.” Zelda snaps back impulsively. Though the way her legs tremble as she finally walks out tells a different story.

It’s not until she steps out and finds that no one is there to mock her, does she exhale a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding in.

* * *

“Auntie Zee!” Sabrina barrels into Zelda before she has a chance to take one step through the front door of their home. She panics for a second at the unexpected embrace, but soon relaxes when she realises it’s just Sabrina. She wraps her arms around her niece, in just as fierce of a hug.

Hilda and Ambrose both appear from the kitchen, each of them offering her an expression of pure love and relief. “Perhaps I should stay away more often if this is the reception I get.” Zelda says dryly, trying to maintain her controlled persona. She’d never want to let her family see her as anything but the matriarch they knew her as.

The embrace goes on for far longer than necessary, but Zelda doesn’t care. She savours the moment. The way Sabrina’s hair smells of parma violet sweets, the fact she’s getting taller and reaches just above her shoulders now. It’s moments like this with her niece that reminds Zelda exactly why she put herself through disturbing experiences. It was all worth it if it meant keeping Sabrina and everyone else safe. “Are you okay, Auntie Zee?” Sabrina asks, pulling away, allowing them to move further into the Mortuary.

Zelda takes both her hands in her own and squeezes reassuringly. “Of course I am.” She insists, once they’re in the foyer. She hears the door click shut behind her, but doesn’t look back. “It was only Faustus Blackwood. Hardly a warlock I couldn’t handle. Besides Miss Wardwell tells me he’s gone. I’d like to know exactly what’s happened while I was indisposed in that Satan forsaken cell.”

“What do you mean, _Miss Wardwell?_ “ Sabrina repeates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She glances over Zelda’s shoulder at the woman in question, then back at Ambrose and Hilda. “Uhm, I-

“I haven’t disclosed anything to your Aunt just yet, Sabrina.” Miss Wardwell intervines, taking a step forward so she’s next to Zelda. “I thought it best we get her home first.”

Being spoken about as if she wasn’t in the room annoys Zelda. She ignores Miss Wardwell’s presence entirely. “What is it?” She asks Sabrina, who looks slightly panicked.

“How about we all go into the kitchen and have a cup of tea?” Hilda suggests from nowhere. She walks up to Sabrina, smiling at her warmly. “Give your Aunt Zelda a chance to breathe.”

“No, Hilda. If there’s something important I need to know, I’d rather Sabrina be honest with me.” Zelda persists, “well, what don’t I know about your school teacher?” She asks. Not once letting go of Sabrina’s hands.

“Well there’s a lot actually. Miss Wardwell isn’t, well _this_ isn’t her...she’s...she’s.” Sabrina stutters, a trait picked up from Hilda. Zelda tries not to scold her for it. Or else she’d get no answer at all.

“Not whom she appears to be.” Ambrose supplies mischievously from where he’s leaning against the bannister at the bottom of the stairs.

“Will _someone_ please just tell me what’s going on.” Zelda’s patience finally runs out. She looks around at eveyone expectantly. Until finally resting her eyes on Miss Wardwell. “Well? It’s clearly about you. Spit it out.”

Miss Wardwell looks somewhat insulted at her brisk tone. She looks over at Sabrina, as if communicating that it’s okay and smiles, then blue eyes are back to Zelda. “My name, my real name is Lilith.” She says simply. So simply in fact that Zelda doesn’t catch on at first.

“I thought your first name was-“ Then it hits her, what she was _really_ saying. Zelda’s face instantly hardens. She abruptly drops her hands away from Sabrina’s. And turns to face Miss Wardwell, no... _Lilith_

“Aunt Zee, please don’t be angry.” Sabrina begs, pulling at the sleeve of the leather jacket she still has on. Zelda moves her arm out of reach, and without looking away from Lilith, she addresses her sister. “Hildegard, would you kindly take Sabrina and Ambrose into the kitchen while I have a little chat with _whoever_ this stranger who pushed herself into all of our lives is.” Although it sounds like a request, it is not. She hears Hilda sigh behind her, then approach their niece again.

“C’mon love.” She says kindly, and Zelda can picture her placing her hands either side of Sabrina’s shoulders. “Let Aunt Zelda get it out of her system and then we can all talk like grown up witches.”

“She saved us, Auntie. And she saved you.” Sabrina says stubbornly. And Zelda can’t help but be reminded of herself. “I was suspicious when I first found out as well, but she really is on our side and once you find out everything that’s going on, you’ll see that we need her as much as she needs us.”

“Hilda!” Zelda shouts, not wanting to hear anything else from Sabrina. She needs to hear this from the horses mouth. “Take Sabrina.”

“Alright, alright, Zelds. Just be calm hmm? Remember your blood pressure. Let’s go, Sabrina my love,” Hilda says, and finally Zelda hears them both slowly make their way back into the kitchen. “And you, Ambrose. Get into that kitchen.” Hilda says.

“Don’t do anything too rash, Aunt Zelda. She _is_ after all a powerful Demoness. Not to mention the first witch on Earth.” Ambrose calls over, before following Hilda and Sabrina.

Zelda waits until the door clicks shut. But as she opens her mouth to speak, Lilith gets to it first.

“Your sister is right, you need to stay calm.” She says plainly.

“I _am_ calm. You’ll know when I’m not.” Zelda snaps back. Straight spined and indignant. “And just because you are who you claim to be, doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do in my own home.”

There’s a breath, and Lilith presses her lips together in a short grimace. “Who I claim to be?” Lilith laughs in incredulously, “I’m not lying if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

Zelda makes a noise from the back of her throat. As if she’s just been told a very poor joke. “All you’ve done is lie!” She hisses, trying to keep her voice down as not to attract anyone’s attention. She knows her family will be trying to listen in to the conversation. “First about who you are, about my own brother and of course whatever business you had with Faustus! I mean I don’t even know why you’re here in the first place! If you truly are, Lilith.” There a quiet quiver to her tone. So she clears her throat before continuing. “What does the Dark Lord have to say about you being here? Surely he must know, you are after all his concubine.” The last part is a cruel jab, a low blow even for Zelda.

Lilith looks taken aback for a second, then she stares almost malevolently. She sneers at Zelda. And starts to walk around her like a shark observing its victim. “I am, Lilith. Here is your proof. You used to pray to me all the time as a young witch.” She says slowly. Zelda feels her cheeks redden at the reminder. Her eyes dart away from Lilith’s. She focuses on a spot on the wall just behind the brunette’s head. “After that boy broke your heart at fifteen, when your mother slapped you across the face at sixteen after you questioned why exactly you had to sign your name away. And all those nights after, until your brother died. Then you stopped praying to me as much. Became devoutly focused on The Dark Lord.” She stops right behind her, And Zelda is convinced she can feel the heat from her body on her leather clad back. “What changed? What made you turn your back on me?”

Zelda stays silent, her vision starts to blur and she realises she’s on the verge of tears again. Damn her for her ridiculous emotions. Even if it was Lilith addressing her, she shouldn’t be reacting this way. Without turning around, Zelda answers her. “Because I realised that no matter how much I prayed, you did nothing. That you weren’t capable of providing me with what I needed.”

“And what is it exactly that you need from me, Zelda?” Lilith asks, taking a step forward. She wraps her arms around Zelda’s waist from behind, over the jacket. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Zelda finds herself leaning back into the touch. “Tell me and perhaps this time I can provide.” For a moment Zelda lets her eyes flutter shut. Lilith’s gentle breaths near her ear lull her into a sense of security. But then she’s back in Rome, and it’s Faustus’s alcohol laced breath breathing on her as he forces her to bend over a table.

“No. Get off.” Zelda spits, as she struggles from the embrace. “I need you to let go of me.” Zelda orders, her eyes snapping open and she abruptly steps forward. Lilith doesn’t fight her, just slacks her arms and drops them to her sides again. Zelda turns around and crosses one arm over her abdomen while the other rests on her hip. “Enough. I grow weary of your tedious distractions. I need you to start telling me exactly what is your purpose here.” She feels more like herself, once she has enough distance between them again. It stops her mind from drifting back to that dark place she never wants to go back to again.

“Well if you want the whole story, then I suppose I should start the week leading up to Sabrina’s Dark Baptism.” Lilith motions to the chair next to the phone in the foyer. “You might want to sit down for this.”

* * *

The nightmares start about two weeks later.

As if her mind is only just catching up with the sheer abuse it had been through, alongside her body. They come like dark shadows, infiltrating her subconscious as she sleeps. She was sure The Dark Lord had actually implemented himself into some of her nightmares on purpose. Each time punishing her in a different way for her betrayal. For choosing to help Lilith, and vanquish him. She’d wake up in a cold sweat each time. Sometimes Hilda wakes her, sometimes her own screaming does. Logically she knows The Dark Lord cannot harm her. He is trapped inside Nicholas Scratch’s body. Forever bound. Or at least until they come up with a way to permanently dispose of him. 

Yet each night as she sleeps, he visits her. Reminds her of all her failures, mainly that of disregarding her one true religion of Satanism. Whispers in each crevice of her skull that she is no witch, not without him to worship.

Zelda tries to banish the memory of her latest nightmare away, as she makes her way downstairs. When she gets to the bottom step, she walks over to the front door, and opens it slightly. Peering out, she double checks the protection spell she places around the mortuary every evening before going to bed. It’s invisible to anyone else, but she can see the purple glimmer of her magick surrounding her home. Keeping eveyone inside safe. Zelda also casts a protection spell around herself. One that prohibits anyone using magick on her without her consent. It’s a difficult spell to keep going all day and night, and usually is only used sparingly. But she can’t function without knowing she’s protected. 

Satisfied with everything, she turns towards the kitchen. Hilda is sitting with her back towards the door. Reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. “Morning, love.” She says absentmindedly, keeping her focus on her reading material. “I made fresh coffee and I’ve laid out your newspaper for you.” Sometimes Zelda wishes that Hilda wouldn’t fuss over her. It’s a habit that started soon after Sabrina came into their lives. But she can hardly be angry at her sister for caring about her. So she quietly makes her way over to the table. 

The newspaper is from Germany today. It makes her pause for a moment, and she thinks of Ambrose. Faustus was last seen somewhere in Europe, or so Ambrose had explained in one of his many letters. He’d gone with Prudence to hunt him down. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel envious of the younger witch. Sometimes she wishes she’d gone with them, to see the light leave his eyes once a dagger is pierced through his heart.

But her place is here in Greendale. She is a High-Priestess now. Though High Priestess of what church, she was yet to decide. There had been murmurings about worshiping Lilith, but Zelda wasn’t convinced. The newly appointed Queen of Hell was not someone she trusted. They’d worked together against Satan, but that didn’t prove anything.

She tries not to dwell on the subject of Lilith. It stirs up feelings she’d much rather keep at bay. Sitting down, she lights a cigarette and picks up the paper.

The words keep blurring though, her mind reeling as she thinks of all there it to be done. Like rebuilding a Coven, who for now has no divine entity to worship. It was laughable. Who’d ever heard of such a thing. She is sure Edward would be spinning in his grave. It makes her wonder wether it was all worth it. 

Enough, she inwardly says to herself. Now is not the time for thinking like that, she has to remind herself. The Coven needed to focus on cultivating their strength and power. They do not need a God or Goddess for that. They have each other.

Zelda tries to hide a yawn behind the newspaper she is pretending to read. Subtly she lowers it down enough to peer over the top, her sister is still reading a book across the table. A book of poetry, which is a vast improvement from her usual romantic smut.

Zelda takes a drag from her half smoked cigarette, then returns to the paper in front of her. Just as she begins to relax, Hilda makes a small sound from the other side of the table.

“What?” Zelda hums, not lowering the paper.

“I _said_ have you had anymore thoughts about forming the Church of Lilith?” Hilda asks as if reading her mind and Zelda frowns.

“Why would you bring that up now?” She snarks, planting the newspaper down flat on the table. Then takes another puff of her smoke. “Have you been talking to her again?” She accuses, knowing that Hilda had formed a peculiar friendship with the Demoness.

“Well maybe a little bit.” Hilda admits, before folding the edge of the page she was on, then closing her book entirely. “I mean no more than usual. I just think that after everything she’s done to help, maybe we should become the Church of Lilith. It would be very fitting, don’t you think? A Goddess and a High Priestess, working together to lead the Coven. Especially after been ruled by a misogynist for so long.”

Zelda narrows her eyes, her lips forming a thin line across her face. “Might I remind you, sister. Lilith was sent here for underhand reasons. Also she is not a Goddess. Not to mention she fed us a pack of lies, until she needed us to help _her._ So forgive me for not wanting to rename our religion for her.”

Hilda sighs, then slumps back in her chair. “Well I think it’s a shame.”

“Why is that?” Zelda barks, already feeling a headache forming behind her eyes. Both from exhaustion and Hilda’s persistence in this matter.

“Well whenever I do speak to her, she’s always asking after you. Like it got to the point of being annoying. Which is why I might of...” Hilda giggles like a teenage witch, not finishing her sentence. Zelda feels dread bubbling deep inside of her.

“Might of what?” Zelda can’t contain her worry. Whatever her sister has done cannot be good, especially while she’s trying to stop herself from smiling like a baffoon.

“I’ve invited her for dinner, tonight.” Hilda announces proudly, leaning forward to pick up her teacup. “I didn’t tell you sooner because I didn’t want you to find a way to get out of it.” She adds with a smirk, before taking a sip of her tea.

For a second Zelda thinks she’s hearing things. But the way her sister keeps looking at her, tells her that there is no mistaking what she’s just said. “You did what?!”

“You heard me, Zelds. Stop being so bloody dramatic!”

“Well you and Sabrina can entertain her. I’ll be making myself scarce at the Academy.” Zelda says, as she stumps out her cigarette into a spare plate on the table. Her mind is reeling. She hadn’t seen Lilith since she walked into the gates of Hell. And they hadn’t spoken properly since the day she revealed who she really was.

“Thing is I’m having dinner with Dr Cee tonight, at his. Like a little date. And Sabrina is having a sleepover at Roz’s. Leaving you to entertain Lilith.”

Zelda slams both of her hands onto the table violently. “Absolutely not. That is out of the question!”

Hilda doesn’t react to her outburst. Just picks up her book again. “If you want to cancel you’ll have to tell her yourself. If not, you’re going to have to suck it up and have dinner with her.” Hilda says casually, her attention focused on the book in her hands. “I think you should make more of an effort with her. Not only for your sake, Zelds. The poor lambs at the Academy need someone to pray to. To feel comforted.”

Zelda feels hurt, at the assumption that she isn’t enough for The Coven. But let’s the comment slip. “We?” She blurts, picking up her pack of cigarettes, and pulling out another. “So you and Sabrina conspired against me together?” She asks, as she places the cigarette inbetween the two hands of her smoking ring.

“Not against you,” Hilda corrects, “for you. And for Lilith. It must get awfully lonely down there in Hell.”

Zelda hums in response, lighting her second cigarette and tries to remeber why exactly she promised never to murder her sister again.

“Fine. It will give me the opportunity to inform her exactly why I’ve decided _not_ to lead our Coven in prayers to her.” Zelda says pointedly, after exhaling smoke through her nostrils like a dragon.

“Whatever you say, Zelds.” Hilda mutters from behind her book. “It’ll also give you the opportunity to return her leather jacket. You know, the one you keep wearing on your mid morning walks through the woods.”

Zelda accidentally inhales smoke through the wrong windpipe at that comment. She didn’t know that Hilda was so hawk eyed. She coughs, and splutters until Hilda takes pity and gets up to retrieve a glass of water for her.

Zelda snatches it from her hand and sips it down greedily. “Stop looki-looking at me like that, Hildegard. Or you’ll find yourself back in that Cain pit.” She manages to get out. Hilda rolls her eyes.

Damn her to Heaven.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d planned on this chapter being more dramatic. But I felt I wanted to fit in a bit more development between Zelda and Lilith, so I’m sorry if it’s a tad slow moving. Next chapter will have Miss Wardwell thrown into the mix, so plenty of drama to come I promise! Though side note this will still be a Zelda/Lilith focused story.
> 
> Also this is how I picture Zelda’s hair in this chapter: https://content.latest-hairstyles.com/wp-content/uploads/updos-for-medium-length-hair.jpg

Standing in front of a floor length mirror in her room, Zelda sparks up a cigarette. She inhales the smoke, then exhales through her nose. The ridiculousness of the scenario her sister has practically forced her into, playing on her mind. She’s annoyed not only because if it wasn’t for Hilda she could of had the house to herself for the evening. But also because the last person she wanted to have dinner with was Lilith. Everything was too raw. Any time she’d spent with the other woman had been either when she was vulnerable and needing help or whilst devising ways of toppling The Dark Lord. The mere thought of just simply having a meal with the woman filled her with dread. Because without anything else in the way, she’d be obligated to make small talk with her. Or worse discuss topics she’d rather forget about; like the kiss. Remembering the way Lilith’s lips felt against her own makes Zelda grimace; because it’d felt so _right._

It wasn’t the best kiss of her life, it’d only lasted a few seconds, but it had happened and there was no ignoring it. Or the way it made her feel. But she would make the up most effort of steering any kind of conversation away from it regardless. Besides Lilith probably wasn’t sitting around thinking about such a minuscule encounter. If Zelda had to guess, the woman had only kissed her out of pity. Which makes her feel like even more of an imbecile for musing about it. It was pointless, nothing would come from it, and that is that. All she had to do was be as polite as possible and tell Lilith that their Coven would not be praying to her any time soon. Nothing less and nothing more. Then they can both go on living separate lives; with little or even better, no interaction.

“You look nice.” Sabrina’s voice cuts through Zelda’s thoughts. She turns around on the spot, and looks at Sabrina suspiciously. “Is that a new dress? I’ve not seen it before.” Her niece goes on, walking over to Zelda’s bed and slumping down on it.

Zelda glances down at herself. She’d opted for a teal knee length dress that clung to her figure snugly. It buttoned up all the way up to her neck and had a white lace trim around the collar as well as the bottom of the sleeves. It wasn’t a dress she wore often, this was true. But she certainly hasn’t put any more effort into choosing an outfit than usual. “When exactly would I have had the time to purchase a new dress?” She retorts dryly, after another puff of smoke. “Besides all my clothes are vintage.”

The way Sabrina looks up at her from the bed irks Zelda. Her niece sighs rather dramatically, “I just think you look extra pretty,” she goes on, “and you’ve done your hair different as well.” She points out.

Zelda feels her heart quicken at the observation. She usually wore her hair down, but had styled it into a simple up do today. She pats at it with her free hand, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Hardly. I used to wear my hair like this through out the nineteenth century. Just because you seldom see me with my hair up, does not mean I’ve suddenly changed it.”

“Can’t you just take a compliment, Aunt Zee? You’re going to have to come up with a nicer response when Lilith see’s you.”

“And why on Earth would Lilith comment on my appearance?” Zelda frowns. Not enjoying where this conversation was going.

Sabrina smiles broadly up at her, “well isn’t that what people do on a first date?”

Zelda’s eyes widen, and she tries to keep her breathing steady. She takes one last pull of her cigarette, before magicking it away, along with her smoking ring. Then she folds her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what nonsense your Aunt Hilda has been feeding you, but I can assure you that this evening is not a date.” She says, drawing out each word slowly.

Sabrina’s expression turns more coy, with each passing second. Zelda doesn’t know where her niece and Hilda have got this preposterous idea that she was in any way romantically interested in Lilith. But she needs to quash their enthusiasm, make them see that even if she was the type of person to date. Lilith would be so far down the list of potential suitors, she’d never stand a chance.

“This is simply a meeting. After which I hope to have as little as possible to do with that woman. She may of helped us, but she also lied. And I will not associate with any more liars for the rest of my life.” Her tone is harsh, and she regrets it a little when the smile on Sabrina’s face shrinks.

“Oh. I guess I just thought...” She doesn’t finish her sentence. Just pushes herself off the bed to stand.

Zelda takes a step forward, planting her hand on Sabrina’s shoulder. “Thought what?’ She asks quietly.

Sabrina shrugs. “Never mind.” She answers, sounding defeated. The last thing Zelda wants is for Sabrina to be unhappy. But she cannot do this; even if it means upsetting the younger witch. “I just want you to be happy, Aunt Zee. I have my friends, Aunt Hilda has Dr Cee, even Ambrose has Prudence. I don’t want you to be by yourself.”

Zelda feels a tug at her heartstrings at Sabrina’s words. The girl was truly an empath, much like Hilda. She was so proud. “Why don’t you get your bag ready for your sleepover? It will do you a world of good to spend some time with Rosalind, I’ve always been very fond of her. Stop fretting about me, I’m not alone.” Smirking, Zelda motions her head over to the stuffed dog on Hilda’s old bed. “I have Vinegar Tom.” She is only half joking. Her former familiar may be long gone from this mortal coil, but he truly was her soul mate.

Sabrina nods, “okay.” She moves away from Zelda and makes her way out. At the threshold of the door, she pauses then turns around again. “Aunt Zee?”

“Yes Sabrina?”

“Regardless what tonight is or isn’t. You really do look lovely.”

Zelda smiles, then ducks her head to hide the sudden blush on her cheeks.

* * *

At precisely seven o’ clock, the doorbell rings.

Zelda looks up from the book on her lap. She shakes off any apprehension she’d been feeling up to this moment, then closes the book. She takes a drag from her cigarette, flicking ash from it once she’s done, then squashes it into the ashtray next to her. She stands up and smooths down the front of her dress, then makes her way to the front door.

“Lilith.” She greets stiffly upon opening the door, stepping aside to let the other woman in.

The brunette smiles broadly at her, as she walks into the foyer. Once inside she brushes out some of her hair that’s stuck in the collar of her coat.

Closing the door shut behind them. Zelda turns toward Lilith, who is looking at her with a peculiar expression. “What?” Zelda asks abruptly. Feeling self conscious under Lilith’s intense gaze.

“It’s just had I known you were going to make such an effort, then I would of as well.” She explains, unzipping the front of her black raincoat. She shrugs it off her shoulders, to reveal a fitted vermillion blouse, tucked into a pair of black jeans at the waist.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” Zelda retorts haughtily. Crossing one arm over her abdomen.

Lilith gives her a half smile. “Well either way, you look spectacular and you put me to shame.” She says, looking her up and down. “It’s nice to see you looking more like yourself. Apart from the hair obviously.”

Zelda wants to argue that they’ve hardly spent enough time together for her to know what ‘looking like herself,’ meant.

She just hums and motions towards the coat rack behind Lilith. “You may hang your coat up there. I’ve also taken the liberty of leaving your jacket there as well. Infact it’s been taking up space ever since the day I returned home.” Zelda lies, not wanting Lilith to know she’d been wearing her jacket for her walks.

Lilith nods, then turns to hang her coat. As she does, she leans closer to her leather jacket and inhales deeply. Zelda frowns at the strange display, until Lilith turns back around to face her. She changes her expression into one of aloofness, while the other woman continues to smile at her. “The thing about leather is that certain smells stick to the material, like cigarette smoke for example. And I don’t smoke.” She says a matter of factly. Eluding to the fact that she knows Zelda had worn the jacket since.

Zelda makes a noncommittal noise, then heads for the kitchen. Not willing to give the comment the time of day. She glances over her shoulder to make sure Lilith is following her. She is, with the same smile plastered on her lips.

“Help yourself to a drink.” Zelda hums as she retrieves two clean wine glasses from near the sink. Hilda has left a bottle of red and white wine on the table; both keeping their chill with magick. When she places both glasses down, Lilith is already opening the bottle of red.

“It smells divine in here.” The brunette comments, then starts pouring herself a glass. She motions the bottle at Zelda’s glass so she nods and lets her pour her a drink as well. “I didn’t take you as someone who likes to cook.” She adds as soon as the glass is filled above half way. Then she puts the bottle back down. “You’re full of surprises.”

“I don’t cook.” Zelda responds, picking up her glass and taking a generous swig. “This is my sisters doing.” She says referring to both the meal and the fact they were having dinner together in the first place.

“That’s very thoughtful of her. Does she cook all your meals then?” Lilith asks, holding her glass at the stem, yet to take a sip.

Zelda glares at her, “certainly not.” She snaps, though in truth Hilda probably did. Zelda had never been what someone would refer to as a domestic goddess. If Hilda was out, and hadn’t left any pre cooked meals in the fridge. Zelda would eat anything that didn’t require actual effort or just substitute eating all together with a pack of cigarettes.

Lilith looks at her as if she knows she’s lying, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “So what do _you_ like to do?” She asks, changing the subject and finally sipping her glass of Merlot.

Zelda is taken aback by the question. It had been a while since anyone had asked her anything personal. So long in fact she’s not sure herself. She tilts her head and considers the question. Internally she struggles to come up with anything, which makes her angry. When she was younger she enjoyed a lot things. Cross-stiching, painting and she even went through a phase of watching black and white films when they became popular. Nowadays she seldom finds time for herself for frivolity like that. “I don’t know.” She relents truthfully, before taking another large swig. She puts the glass down on the table and turns to the oven. Hilda had instructed her earlier on how to prep the meal. She focuses on that, rather than what she’s just revealed about herself.

After putting on Hilda’s garishly pink oven mitts, she pulls out a tray of cooked chicken breasts alongside vegetables that Hilda had prepared that afternoon. All she needs to do it plate it all up.

Straightening herself up, Zelda discards the tray on a counter, and is quick to remove the oven mitts. Her face feels flushed after being so close to the oven. She turns it off, then wipes at her forehead with the back of her hand.

“What can I do to help?” Zelda jumps, not realising Lilith has moved to stand closer to her.

Zelda points to the cabinet near Lilith’s head. “You can fetch me plates from in there.” She says simply, and Lilith beams at her before doing just that. As she stretches her arms up to get the plates, Zelda can’t help admiring the curves of her body. The skin tight top she’s wearing leaves little to the imagination. Lilith is much more slender than she is, her hips narrower and breasts smaller. Zelda feels a splotch of colour rise along her throat at that last observation and she quickly looks away. She distracts herself by taking a step to the side and fetches the utensils needed to plate up their meal.

“Shall I leave them here for you? Or do you want them on the table ready?” Lilith asks, holding two plates in one hand.

“Just leave them here.” Zelda grimaces at the way her voice catches in her throat. Lilith nods and puts them down. She hovers for a moment, as if wanting to do something else. It irritates Zelda, because it makes her nervous. “Sit down, I’ll bring the food over in a minute.” For once Lilith does as she’s told.

Zelda takes longer than necessary to plate up the food. She uses the time to gather her thoughts. She needs to be in control and so far she’s been anything but. After taking a deep breath, she turns to take both plates to the table. She places Lilith’s in front of her. She then takes her plate all the way to the opposite side of the table. Zelda takes a seat, and places a napkin down over her lap. “I hope you-“ She freezes mid sentence, as she watches Lilith get up from her seat. “What are you doing?”

Lilith brings her plate over and puts it down on the chair closest to Zelda’s. She’s not facing her anymore, but Zelda feels their ankles bump together underneath the table. “Sitting closer to you.” Lilith says, wagging her brows.

Zelda runs her tongue across her top teeth, her grip of her knife and fork gets a little tighter. “Why?” She asks in a low tone.

Lilith face looks smug, and she shrugs her shoulders before putting a napkin on her lap like Zelda had. “Because I want to.” She answers.

Zelda shifts in her chair, and the smugness vanishes from Lilith’s face. “Do you mind?” She asks seriously. “I mean if it makes you uncomfortable I can go back.”

Zelda feels as though someone has just walked over her grave. She’d be touched by Lilith’s concern, if she wasn’t so exasperated by it. She knows she is only double checking because she knows about the Caligari Spell and what Faustus had done to her. Zelda is determined not to be a constant victim.

“Sit wherever you like, it makes no difference to me.” She says curtly, before stabbing at a carrot with her fork. She feels Lilith’s eyes on her, and doesn’t lift the fork to her mouth until the brunette follows suit and starts to eat.

They eat their meal in silence for a while after that. It’s not really an awkward silence, but it’s not a comfortable one either. There is something heavy in the air between them.

“I’ll have to tell Hilda what a marvellous cook she is the next time I see her.” Lilith finally speaks in between mouthfuls. “Do you think she’d make me meals down in Hell?” She jokes playfully, as she reaches for her wine glass.

Zelda pauses as she cuts at a piece of chicken. “Knowing my sister, she probably would.” She responds with a smile. But stops as soon as she realises she’s doing it. “Speaking of Hell, I thought now would be an appropriate time to inform you that the coven will not be praising you, or referring to you as our Goddess.”

Lilith sighs, then leans away from the table. One hand over her stomach, the other holding her glass. She twists her wrist and watches the dark red liquid swish around. “Oh? And why is that?” She asks, though doesn’t sound the least bit interested in the answer.

Zelda scowls, and drops her knife and fork onto her plate. She reaches for her own wine glass, “well there’re a lot of reasons behind my decision.” She starts to say, only breaking to have a sip of wine. After placing the glass back down she continues. “I won’t go into all of them. But the main reason is reliability. You’re too much of a wild card. The coven needs stability, and I do not think you will be able to provide that.” Zelda waits for a counter argument from Lilith. She expects she’ll have one; instead Lilith just sniggers. Even lifting the hand that was on her stomach to cover her mouth. “I don’t see what’s so amusing.” Zelda states condescendingly.

Gathering herself, Lilith waves her hand. “I’m sorry,” she says, not really sounding sorry at all. “It’s just that what you just said sounded terribly rehearsed.” She explains.

Zelda is mortified, but refuses to let Lilith have the upper hand. “What if it was?” She argues. “You should be grateful that I’ve given it some thought. That I’ve weighed out the pro’s and con’s like a responsible adult. This isn’t an off the cuff decision. It’s far too important.”

“I should be grateful?” Lilith rolls her eyes, then downs the last of her wine, though keeps the glass in her hand. “I think you need to remeber who you’re talking to.” She says resentfully. “Not only was I the first witch on this miserable earth and right hand to The Dark Lord for centuries. I’m now the queen of Hell. And if I wanted to I could _make_ your little coven worship me.”

“Then why haven’t you implemented your power?” Zelda asks quickly, before the anxiety building within her had a chance to rear its unwanted head. Being threatened by force wouldn’t of phased Zelda in the past. Now she has to tense her shoulders, and clench her teeth to stop herself from shaking.

Lilith raises a perfectly arched brow. “I’m not saying that I would ever do that, I’m just saying that I could.” She says, basically downplaying what she’s just said. Zelda was expecting more...well _something._ Like the verbal sparring matches they used to have back when she was pretending to be Miss Wardwell. Zelda feels disparaged. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Lilith was purposefully backing down because of what had happened to her with Faustus and the Caligari Spell.

As trepidatious as the line of conversation feels, Zelda refuses to be treated differently. She drops both hands onto her lap, the fingers of her right one pinch at the top of her leg over he dress. She uses mild pain as a distraction while she speaks up. “No need to play coy, you’ve expressed your displeasure at being rejected. If you wish to try to pressure us into worshiping you, by all means try your best.” Zelda mocks, though there’s the tiniest tremble in her tone.

“Look I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this.” Lilith murmurs, looking at Zelda empathetic eyes.

The expression of pity gets under Zelda’s skin. She pinches her leg even harder. “And what is it do you think I’m doing?” She questions, feeling hot under the collar of her dress.

Lilith doesn’t avert her eyes once when she responds. “I think you’re trying to prove something. Both to me and and yourself. I’ve clearly insulted you somehow. Not with my empty threat. I think you’re upset that I minimised my response and now you’re trying to get into an argument with me to counter that.” She says evenly. Finally setting her glass back down on the table.

Zelda just stares dumbfounded at her. Lilith had read her like a book. She hadn’t realised the woman was so observant of her. It makes her feel exposed, like the wall she’d spent years building up around herself was slowly crumbling. Zelda ducks her head, not really sure how to respond.

“I’ve overstepped my mark.” Lilith announces and Zelda looks up again. The brunette has placed her knife and fork neatly on her plate, along with the napkin that was on her lap. “I should go.” She says standing up.

“Hilda made dessert.” Zelda blurts out. Lilith looks mystified, but doesn’t move from where she’s standing. “It’s apple and raspberry crumble.” Zelda goes on, as if she has no control over what she’s saying. Lilith was about to leave, that’s what she wanted right? So why was she prolonging this disastrous encounter? Not only that, but it was such an obvious ploy at getting her to stay at that.

Lilith looks bewildered, she worries her bottom lip between her teeth, then smiles. “Well it would be rude for me not to have some if your sister went to the trouble of making it.”

Zelda relaxes again, dumping her napkin on her unfinished plate, then stands up. “Marvellous.” She drawls, before bending down to pick up their plates. “Please sit down and help yourself to more wine.” She suggests. If Lilith is confused by her sudden switch from sternness to polite host, she doesn’t say anything. Just complies by sitting back down and pours more wine into her glass and tops up Zelda’s. The bottle is empty by the time she’s done.

After a few minutes Zelda returns with two bowls of crumble, with ice cream. Preserved perfectly in the fridge with magick by Hilda. The crumble is warm, in contrast to the ice cream. Just another example of Hilda’s thoughtfulness.

Lilith wordlessly takes a bite of the desert. She leaves her spoon in her mouth, then drags it out slowly. “Mmm, this is delicious.” She compliments, though Zelda is far too distracted by the way she says it than what she says. A pink tongue flicks out of Lilith’s mouth to lick away any excess crumbs from her lips. Zelda’s mouth goes very dry all of a sudden, so she grabs her wine glass.

“Don’t you like it?” Lilith asks, when Zelda just continues to drink her wine but not actually touch her desert. She glances down at the bowl, the ice cream has started to melt.

“I think I’m full from the dinner.” She says absentmindedly. Her appetite gone. She puts the glass down, and pushes her plate away.

“You didn’t eat much of that either.” Lilith goes on, putting her spoon back down in the bowl. “I’m getting the impression that this meal wasn’t something you wanted to partake in at all.”

Zelda shrugs. “It was Hilda and Sabrina’s idea. I didn’t even know it was happening until this morning.” She confirms. Folding her arms she looks at Lilith pointedly. “Why did _you_ say yes?”

Lilith leans forward a little with her elbows on the table. “Do you remember that night I found you on the bathroom floor? Afterwards when I said I wanted to see you again under more pleasant circumstances and you said maybe. Well I thought that’s what this was.”

Zelda closes her eyes for a moment. That particular evening was something she wanted to forget about. “Don’t you think I would of reached out myself, if that was the case?” She asks after opening her eyes again.

“I did find it a little strange when Hilda brought up the meal but...I mean no offence you aren’t very forthcoming. I thought perhaps you’d asked her to come to me on your behalf. Now I feel like an idiot for getting my hopes up.” Lilith admits, lifting a hand to her face and rubbing at her temple.

Zelda’s eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean getting your hopes up?” She wishes the dress she’s wearing had pockets. She’d usually fish out a pack of cigarettes by now. She’d left them in the living room though, on the small table next to her ashtray.

Lilith looks down at her bowl. She focuses her attention on it as she speaks. “For centuries I’ve lived my life being someone’s doormat.” She says, referring obviously to The Dark Lord. “Even before that I was created to be someone’s subservient. It’s like no matter what my whole existence was for the benifit of someone else. I’ve never been allowed just to be my own person. That was until the Dark Lord ordered me to come here to persuade Sabrina to sign his book.”

Zelda makes a disapproving sound, and Lilith glances up at her. “Let me finish.” She says, and Zelda nods as Lilith refocuses her attention on her half eaten desert. “After taking on the role of Miss Wardwell and spending more time here on earth, I suddenly found myself becoming more, maybe independent isn’t the right word, but I definitely was becoming more of my own person. Down in Hell I scarcely had anytime for myself. I was always part of some agenda. And although he kept in touch and would check up on me, I felt as though The Dark Lord’s grip was loosening. I started to have my own thoughts and feelings.”

“I still don’t understand what that has to do with you wanting to have dinner with me.” Zelda ventures, though not unkindly this time. She’s shocked that Lilith is being so open with her. She had always assumed being who she was, was a privilege. That she had all the freedom she wanted. It hadn’t occurred to her that she was under The Dark Lord’s keep, much like the rest of them. By the sounds of it she had even more restrictions.

Lilith looks up again and grins. “Well I met you, or more accurately you found me skulking around your home and...” she chuckles under her breath. “ _And_ I was instantly besotted.” She admits.

Zelda feels heat rise in her cheeks. Intellectually she had an idea where this was going. But hearing the words spoken out loud still throws her off. “I can’t imagine why, I didn’t give you a warm welcome.” She responds hoarsely, leaning back in her chair.

“Exactly! There was an instant rivalry and it was refreshing. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re equal part stern as you are soft. Though you rarely reveal the softer part. I see glimpses of it when you are with your family. Even when you’re angry, your love for them shines through.” Lilith chuckles, probably because of the absurdity of it all. “But that’s not my point. My point is that you interested me back then, and now, well _now_ I really like you, Zelda. You’re the first person in my whole life that I just like for not other reason than because _I do_. Not because I’m supposed to, or for some perverse plot. And that’s why I wanted to have dinner with you and why I _hoped_ that you felt the same way.”

Zelda’s demeanour softens at that final revelation. She’s suddenly lost for words. Their bickering had always been tinged with an element of low level flirtation. That is something Zelda will admit. They were both attractive women in their own right. But Zelda has never considered that they could or should be anything more than what they were. Especially now with everything that had happened.

The thought of being intimate with _anyone_ makes Zelda feel slightly sick. She had assumed that part of her life was over; and she would just be alone. It didn’t bother her, she was a High Priestess and a Directrix; both roles would occupy a lot of her time. Besides Lilith was now the queen of hell; another reason why building any sort of relationship with one and other seemed impossible now.

“I don’t know what to say.” Zelda relents, uncrossing her arms and toying with the sleeve of her dress. “I’m flattered. But I don’t really see how anything can come of what you’ve just said.”

Lilith looks defeated, she brushes her hair over one shoulder, then moves to stand up. “Are you saying that because you’ve no interest in me romantically or because you’re frightened to let yourself be open to the possibility?” She asks, her voice cracking.

Zelda doesn’t know how to respond. Her first instinct is to say she has no interest in Lilith, but she can’t find the words. It would be a lie anyway, the attraction had always been there, buried deep. But she also doesn’t want to admit to being frightened. Lately Lilith had only seen her at her weakest; she doesn’t want to add anymore fragility to the other woman’s opinion of her. So she simply looks away, and doesn’t say anything.

Lilith sighs, “I see.” From her peripheral vision, Zelda watches as she gathers her bowl and wine glass. “I’ll just put these away for you, then I’ll leave.”

Once Lilith moves to the counter, and has her back to her, Zelda finally looks at the other woman from where she’s sitting. From her reaction it’s hard to say wether she is more angry or upset. Clearly she see’s her silence as a rejection. If Zelda was thinking sensibly she would leave it at that. This is what she wants right? To push Lilith away from both herself and the Coven. She’d done a good job at both; and yet...

The thought of Lilith leaving and thinking that she’s not wanted brings a bad taste to Zelda’s mouth. Against her better judgment she gets up quietly and walks over to where Lilith is putting her bowl next to the sink. A silence stretches, until Zelda finds the courage to speak.

“I _am_ frightened.” She says, her anxiety growing.

Lilith freezes, then turns around. She leans with her hands against the counter behind her. Her expression pliable, though not condescending. “So am I.” She admits tenderly.

Neither of them move, and the air feels heavy. “What do we do now then?” Zelda asks in a small voice.

Lilith blinks, as if she’s not sure herself how to respond. “Whatever we want I suppose.” She says, voice determined apart for the slight tremor that runs through it.

Zelda flexes her jaw and nods. She steps forward, any vulnerability she felt moments ago buried deep. Tentatively she places her hand on Lilith’s waist. The other woman doesn’t move, keeps her hands against the counter. Zelda knows she’s purposely giving her the lead, and being patient, she’s grateful. She looks deep into Lilith’s eyes, before slowly leaning in and bridging the gap between them with her lips. It’s just like the kiss from a few weeks ago. Not hard and bruising; just gentle and tender. Zelda feels Lilith kiss her back demurely, not forcing a frenzy of lust. And she doesn’t touch Zelda with her hands either. Just grips at the counter, as Zelda presses against her body. After a few minutes, Zelda pulls back. But doesn’t drop her hand from Lilith’s waist.

They both study each other silently, taking in the details of their faces. Zelda catches Lilith looking at the mole near her eyebrow. And she notices a small scar on Lilith’s cheek. She wonders wether or not is belonged to her or if it was Miss Wardwell’s.

The reminder that this isn’t Lilith’s true form, dampens Zelda’s mood. She takes a step back, letting go of Lilith. It’s not that she cares what the woman looks like. It’s just that the knowledge that she has possibly fallen for someone who isn’t really who she appears to be. That there’s another person who looks just like her walking around Greendale without a clue that she now has a doppelgänger. She imagines bumping into Miss Wardwell in town, the thought is very disconcerting. Would she be as tantalised by _her_ as she is by Lilith? Should it matter?

“Is something wrong?” Lilith asks, vigilant as ever.

Zelda shakes her head. “No it’s nothing.” She says, crossing her arms. “This is all just very new.”

“I get that.” Lilith reassures her, “and we can take things slow, if that’s what you want?”

“I’m not sure what I want.” Zelda’s voice is neutral.

Lilith smiles, “that’s okay. Do you want me to leave for now?” She asks, nothing but understanding poured into her words.

Zelda considers saying yes, but she also doesn’t like the idea of just ending the evening so abruptly. Before Faustus she’d of probably taken this opportunity to seduce Lilith. Now she’s wary of getting to close to her, even a simply kiss was hard work. “No, you can stay a little longer if you wish.” Zelda says, uncrossing her arms. “But I can’t uhm...what I’m trying to say is that if you expect us to-“ Zelda tries to find the words, without sounding like a inexperienced virgin on her first ever date, but that’s exactly how she feels.

“Zelda I don’t care about _that_ right now.” Lilith interrupts, obviously catching the hint . “I just want to spend some time with you and get to know you. Like I said, we can take things slowly.”

Although she’s still embarrassed, Zelda feels a sweep of relief at Lilith’s words. “That would be acceptable.” She says, then motions towards the door. “We can sit in the living room, it’s more comfortable in there.”

Lilith’s smile was possibly the brightest one Zelda has seen on her face. “Great!” She exclaims, pushing herself away from the counter. “And we can discuss why the Coven should definitely be praising _me._ ” She laughs.

“That’s not what this is about is it?” Zelda asks, her suspicious nature getting the better of her. The last thing she wants is to be used again. “Your way of trying to garner my favour?”

Lilith sighs and approaches Zelda. She takes both her hands in her own. “I was just kidding. I’d never do that to you.” She says before lifting one of Zelda’s hands to her lips and kissing her knuckles. “This thing between us is separate to all of that.” Lilith drags her mouth across Zelda’s knuckles. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from moaning at the subtle sensation. Lilith squeezes her hand, before letting go all together.

“Okay.” Zelda whispers. Then Lilith steps to the side, allowing her to step forward and lead them into the living room.

“Wait, shall I get the other bottle of wine?” Lilith asks. Zelda glances over her shoulder and nods at her with a small grin on her face. She’s almost tempted to make a joke about how Lilith wants to get her drunk, but decides not to.

“Bring the rest of the dessert as well.” Zelda says instead. Her sweet tooth getting the better of her, now the tension was lifted.


End file.
